Supergirl
by most excellent
Summary: She was his best friend in high school, but they've only seen each other five times in the past ten years. Will she fit into his new life? Is it easier to leave the past behind you? FlackOC. Chapter 6 and up are in the present.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it or make any money off it. _

_A/N: So, this is my first time writing... anything, really. I just am doing these fanfics to become a better writer and because I hate journaling. I know there are lots of Flack/OCs out there, but I thought this would make a good story. And I'm sick of all the DL stuff floating around. Review only if you feel like it. Hakuna Matata. Oh, I was listening to a weird combination of music while writing this (Panic! At The Disco, Rascal Flatts, Shania Twain, Avril Lavigne, Relient K, and the Pirates of the Carribbean soundtrack) and it was also very late at night so it might have turned out really dumb._ _The second chapter is done. I'm not sure if I will post it yet. What do you think? The first few chapters aren't supposed to have a plot, they're just introducing the characters and the background. The lyrics at the beginning are from "Supergirl" performed by Krystal Harris. This is sort of the 'theme song' for the character Lizzie. The lines Don and Lizzie quote at the end are from "The Walrus and The Carpenter" by Lewis Carrol.

* * *

_

_I'm supergirl  
And I'm here  
To save the world  
And I wanna know  
Who's gonna save me?  
I'm supergirl  
And I'm here to  
Save the world  
And I wanna know  
Why I feel so alone

* * *

_

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"Nope. I hate you. I really do. You suck. This is all your fault, you know. I'm helping you out, doing you a favor. Then you say I gotta wear that. Nope. I ain't doin' it." She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest as she sat down on a nearby stool. She gave him the dirtiest look she could come up with, which he promptly returned with a bright smile. Her resolve was slipping. Crap.

He got down on both knees to bring himself to her level and leaned in closer, giving her the 'puppy dog that's lost in the cold dark woods' look. "Please Lizzie? For me?"

"I just don't see why I have to wear that stupid dress. I'll look horrible, and you know I'd be more comfortable in a skirt or something. You should pick someone who looks good in a dress. And why does it have to be that particular dress? I could probably find something that fits me…"

He silenced her by pulling her off the stool, onto the floor, and sitting on her. Outraged, she fought like a caged puma, deadly and precise, and within fifteen seconds she had him pinned down on the floor.

"Pinned ya." she whispered in his ear, laughing at the astonished look on his face. He took this moment of distraction to push her off and try to get her again. She, in four simple maneuvers, got him flat on his back and defenseless.

"Pinned ya 'gain. Movie?"

"Lemme go you vicious…" he struggled even though he knew it was no use. She was too good for him. "Unfair odds, you stupid black belt..."

"Movie?" she asked again, unfazed by his squirming like a kindergartener outside the principal's office.

"The Lion King."

"Year?" she whispered, leaning in closer, their noses only inches apart.

"Two years ago. '94."

"Fine." she muttered sulkily, then relaxed her muscles and allowed him to push her off. "I'll go with you, and I'll wear that dress."

Don Flack Jr. smiled to himself and accepted partial victory. She might be better than him at karate, but he could persuade her to do almost anything if he really needed it.

"I think you wanna go. In that dress, too. Don't give me that innocent look, I know you too well for that. And Chip and Janet are going, so we can double-date with them if you want to. I have to go anyway, and you know I'll just go alone if you won't go with me."

"You wouldn't have to go alone. You could go with someone who was planning on going anyway. One of the cheerleaders, for instance. Or any of the stupid Softball Queens. I'm sure Terri or Shandra or Kelsey..."

"Why would I want to go with them when I could go with you?" she blushed involuntarily and smiled to herself.

"I don't know. A very good question, I must say. Is it because I'm very short and pencil thin with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and I have a cute cheerleader name like Kelsey or Lindsay or Brittany?"

"No. It's because you're a tall redhead with brown eyes and a non-ditzy name, because you're my best friend, not to mention my girlfriend."

"I've been your girlfriend for what, a week? I mean, we don't know if it's gonna work out. We shouldn't be spoutin' out 'bout it if we ain't certain it's gonna work." she cut in, not realizing how much slang she used and how thick her accent was when she was nervous. He noticed. Every time.

"I love that you played in the drum line and that you kick butt in karate and I hate that I won't be around you when you're off at college. Gosh, Liz. I'll miss you so much."

"Well, yeah..." she said cockily, giving her signature smirk, then laughing at herself. "I sound just like one of them. Come on, we'll just ditch the party. Celebrate our, what will it be on Friday, two week anniversary?"

"Our two week anniversary is serious business, young lady. Please keep your sarcasm to yourself." he half said, half snorted with a smirk exactly like hers.

"Your coach won't notice one of the, what, twenty gazillion guys from the football team missing? What is he, gonna take role call or something?"

"He'll miss his star quarterback, though."

"You're so full of it, you know that?"

"Full of what? Charming-ness, handsomeness?" He idly picked a Magic 8 ball off his desk, shook it a few times, then laughed at the result.

"Bull. And 'charming-ness' isn't a word. What did the ball say?"

"Way to be technical. I asked it a personal question. Absolutely none of your business. Snoop."

"Whatever. So why do I have to wear this particular dress again?" she said, quickly changing the subject off of what was sure to be a losing battle.

"Liz- you want to go. Admit it. Come on..." he poked her in the side, acting, as usual, like he was still in third grade. "What would you rather do than hand out with the entire football team and their cheerleader girlfriends, listening and dancing to overrated pop music, and watching some idiots get totally wasted on beer afterwards in the parking lot?"

"I would rather play softball than go. I would rather play softball on top of an airplane drinking coffee than go. I would rather..." he was laughing too hard for Liz to continue her list of most hated things. "Would you shut up? I was on a roll... now where was I?"

"Softball...airplane...coffee." he reminded her once he'd stop rolling around on the floor.

"It wasn't that funny. And I really am afraid of heights. And coffee is disgusting. But I don't want to go to this prom-party-dance-whatever-thing. Please don't make me go..."

"Liz-**zie**! Puh-lease! You have to go with me! I have to go because of Coach, and even if I didn't have to, I would still want to go with you. And you don't have to wear that dress if you really don't want to. But I thought…"

"I already said I would. Sheesh. Talk about desperate..."

"I'm not desperate! And how's I supposed to know you hadn't changed your mind?"

"I was just messin' with you. Yes you are desperate. I've known you long enough to know that when you start rambling..."

"I wasn't rambling!"

"Yes, you were. Dinner time." a voice from the kitchen called out. Liz smiled and gave him an I-told-you-so look.

"My mom loves you. She would agree with anything you said."

"Not my fault I'm so lovable."

"It is. You could be mean if you tried."

"No, I couldn't. Not in a million years because it's just in my nature to be kind-hearted and caring and..."

"DONALD STEPHAN FLACK JUNIOR AND ELIZABETH ANNELIESE GELLAR, COME TO THE TABLE RIGHT NOW!"

"Boy, your mom can yell loud." Liz half whispered, half giggled as they scrambled as fast as they could to the dining room on the first floor.

"I know..."

"I heard that, young man."

"Sorry ma. I take it back. You have the quietest voice I ever heard."

"Don't you lie to me young man."

"Okay. I mean, yes ma'am." the young football star said as respectfully as he could, which earned a fresh batch of laughter from Liz and a few chuckles from his mother.

"The time has come," Mrs. Flack started, only to be interrupted by:

"The Walrus said, to talk of many things! Of shoes, and ships, and sealing wax!"

"Of cabbages, and kings!"

"And why the sea is boiling hot!"

"And whether pigs have wings!"

"That's all I know." Liz said regretfully to Don, who was nodding, also sadly, in agreement.

"When was that?"

"Third grade. Mrs. Henderson. She was weird."

"I know. Didn't she make you stand..."

"Would you two please stop it! You are driving me crazy, both of you! I was going to say, the time has come to set the table. And you will be volunteering to do it for me." Mrs. Flack was not a woman to be trifled with. The two teens immediately began rummaging around in drawers and piling silverware and dishes on the small table.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it or make any money off it._

_A/N: A huge thank you to demolished-soul, The Little Corinthian and stargazr for reviewing... glad you guys like it so far. You're pretty much my best friends right now. This is still just another background chapter, and the real story (the part I describe in the summary) doesn't really start for another few chapters at least. This was written under the influence of Rascal Flatts, Panic! At The Disco, Tobymac, Will Smith and Destiny's Child. Sorry if it sucks. Hey, I tried...

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_

"So, how many dates has it been? Workin' out all right?" Chip asked his best friend as they stood inside the library, watching a group of girls playing softball for P.E. on one of the fields nearby. There were plenty of pretty girls outside; some could even be classified as 'hott'. But only one girl was beautiful, and that one girl was the only thing Don saw. 

Don snapped out of his daydream long enough to mutter, "Two weeks as of Friday", then return to watch his girlfriend. She struggled to catch even the simplest of catches, and couldn't throw the ball right to save her life. Anyone else would have thought of her as not athletic, clumsy, maybe even a space cadet. That person would have never seen her practice karate at the Y on weekends, march in the drum line, run five miles in under forty-five minutes, play street basketball, or just walk. Even her walk was powerful, with a purpose and an objective: to get there fast. And she always did.

He turned suddenly to find his friend still standing there watching the class in action. "How's Janet at sports? I never really noticed her doing anything."

"She's real good at softball. Plays that in the spring; cheerleading in the winter. Made the Varsity team as a junior, she'll probably be team captain this year. She's really good. They went to state last year." Chip wasted no opportunities to boast about his girl, who had been his girl for the past two months. Janet and Chip going out were the reason Lizzie and had even thought about dating in the first place.

Don tuned his friend out, who was still jabbering on about Janet's accomplishments, and thought back to three weeks before.

_Don and Liz had been friends long before her little sister Janet and his best friend Chip joined their little group. All four of them had gone to see a movie and Chip and Janet had left right after it was over. Not wanting to go home, the two friends had decided to go back to the old video arcade, play some of the old games, and generally pretend they were in the sixth grade again." _

_There, playing partners pinball, drinking coke and eating Baby Ruths, they'd decided to try dating each other for a few weeks, to see what it was like. If it wasn't working, they'd end it and go back to being friends. No harm in that, right?_

But he liked it. He liked it a lot. And with graduation just barely a week away, he had started to worry about the future. About her in his future. 

"So what're you gonna do?" Chip's harsh Yonkers accent broke into his thoughts and pushed him back to the present. "You've gotta tell her something, Don. You've fallen for her hard." Chip knew Don would only ignore him if something important was on his mind. And seeing as both Chip and Don were already accepted into NYU, the next biggest decision Don had to make would have to be… Lizzie.

"I know. I just don't know what there is to tell. I mean, what difference will it make? She's gonna be gone for four years, then six more after that. What's the point of waiting for ten years? We'll just split and be pen pals or something."

"You gonna tell her at the prom?"

"Yeah. That might be the best time. So how are things going with you and Janet?" he said, wanting to talk about anything but Lizzie and the future.

"Things are great, man. I really think she's the one, I mean, we were best friends first, and we just clicked. Like I never clicked with Liz. I don't know why. But anyways, we're…" he kept on talking about his date to the prom, his girlfriend, and above all his best friend.

* * *

"You gonna tell him?" Janet asked her sister as they were at their lockers after school. 

"Tell him what?" Lizzie said distractedly as she fought with putting her bulky Calculus textbook in her locker. Why did teacher insist on the students bringing their textbooks to class, when finals were already over? "No clue what you're talking about." she said, accenting 'clue' with the slam of her locker door. She looked down at her sister, then realized what she meant. _Oh. That. I don't want to think about that just yet. _"I don't know what to say. I mean, I like him a lot. But I just don't think it will work out with him at NYU for two years and then at the Academy, and me at West Point for four years, then six in the army. You just can't be in a long-distance relationship for a decade, so I guess we'll have to break it off."

"Do you want to?" Janet asked quietly, already knowing the answer by the pained look on her sister's face whenever she talked about the future.

"No." Liz said in a dull voice as she weaved in and out of the crowd in the hall on autopilot. Janet had no idea what Lizzie would decide in the end. She really wanted to go to the Point and be in the army, but she still liked Don- a lot, as she said, but Janet knew it was more than that. She decided the wisest move to make her feel better was to switch the discussion from 'life talk' to 'girl talk'.

"Think about it after the prom. So, what are you wearing again?"

"You know, that green and white dress I got last year." Lizzie said, glad for the change of subject.

"I thought you hated that dress?" Janet said, again anticipating the answer.

"Not really."

"Then why did you make such a big deal when Don suggested you wear it?"

"Hey, we gotta have something to argue about." Lizzie knew why Janet was asking these endless questions, but she didn't feel like calling Janet on it.

"How can you guys date each other and still be friends exactly like before?"

"We're better friends than before. It isn't logical, but somehow it just worked out that way."

The quartet always walked home together. It only made sense, because they had all known each other since Chip, Don, and Lizzie were in the third grade together, and Janet was in second. Because they had been best friends for two years, and because they all lived on the same floor of the same apartment building.

Lizzie and Janet were slightly ahead of the two boys, talking animatedly in German so the boys wouldn't have to listen and understand the 'boring' conversation about their dresses. The boys lagged behind, talking about the prom on Friday and graduation just five days away. School was just an inconvenience now, just something you went to on autopilot and sit through until school was out and you could talk about your dress, your date, your car. Your college, your dorm, your future roommate. Everyone's minds were in the future, and they were already loving it.

They parted ways just outside the stairwell on their floor. Janet started to head home, but changed her mind. "Hey Liz… I'm gonna go talk to someone real quick. I'll be home in like fifteen minutes, ok?"

"Sure, whatever," Liz automatically replied, not really caring what Janet did. "I'll tell mom."

Janet hurried back down the hall, starting to go in the direction of Chip's apartment, and then changing direction once Lizzie was out of sight. She knocked softly on the Flack's door, then looked up in surprise as Don's dad answered. "Oh, Detective Flack, didn't expect to see you here now. Can I talk to Don for just a sec?"

"Sure, Janet. Haven't seen you in a while. How was the softball team this year?" he was glad to see her again, glad to see anyone again. These double shifts the chief was putting him on lately were killing him.

"We were ok. Finished twelfth in the state. Next year will be better, though." She loved talking about softball, and would have gone on a lot longer if Don hadn't come to the door. She smiled at him and said, "Hey, can we talk for a second?"

He nodded, then closed the door after his dad went inside. "So, what's up? Somethin' 'bout Chip?"

"Naw, it's about Lizzie. I'm real worried about her. She's losin' sleep, can't concentrate, and doesn't want to talk to me about it. What're you guys gonna do when she leaves?" she asked, bluntly saying what was on her mind, not occurring to her that she was prying.

He sighed and leaned back against the door, his tapping black Converse showing how agitated he was. "I don't know. I want it to work out. I really do. I just don't know if we can handle it."

"I think she feels the same way." Janet said, glad he felt the same way. Don Flack and Lizzie Gellar were made for each other, there was no way around it.

He sighed with relief, then gave Janet a quick hug and opened the door behind him. "Thanks for telling me, Jan. We're gonna have to have a long talk 'bout it, on Friday night maybe. During the prom."

"You might want to wait a little longer than that, Flack. A lot can happen in one night."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, not having a clue where Janet was going with this.

"What do you think it's supposed to mean?" she asked, just to be difficult.

"You're a dork, you know that?" he said as he shut the apartment door behind him.

Janet practically skipped down the hallway. She had been intimidated by Don when the Gellar family moved to Yonkers from Texas nine years ago, but after she saw Lizzie and Don click after 'The Noodle Incident', she no longer saw him as the tough son of a cop. She saw him as a brother. "_Or hopefully,"_ she thought to herself "_a brother-in-law in about ten years_."

She stood in front of her door, looking around in her backpack for the key, then started walking down the hallway again. Chip answered the door, then smiled at her, confused as to why she was there when he had seen her just ten minutes before.

"Hey. 'Sup?" he said, leaning down to give her a hug, then pulled back and asked, "Does the noise in my head bother you?"

"The Gods Must Be Crazy. 1980."

"Darn it. How do you always get those? I looked all over, trying to find a hard one to stump you with. And by the way, what are you doing here?"

"Do I need an excuse to see my favorite person?"

"No. But I just saw you ten minutes ago…" he cut off when she jumped back into his arms again.

"Just missed you." she said into his shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it or make any money off it._

_A/N:) :) :) :) :). That's how I feel right now, thanks to the people who reviewed... You guys rock. Majorly. I wrote this really fast so it might be a little below your expectations. I just realized that sometimes I can be really cheesy, so sorry about that. I fixed some spelling errors (December 13). Because I suck at spelling.

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_

"So, Don, I was thinking..."

"Wow, that's unusual." He looked around the hallway in front of his locker again. Where was Lizzie? She was supposed to meet him here after school, and one of the star players on the softball team had him cornered.

"You're so funny, Don. Well, I was thinking, I'm going to the prom with a group of girls, and I since you don't have a date I thought maybe we could dance together. I'll meet you at eight just inside the entrance, OK?" She flipped her blond hair back and gave him a coy smile. Yuck. He was so glad Liz didn't flirt. She didn't do stupid things like that. He glanced at his watch again and hoped she was intelligent enough to take the hint.

"Actually I'm going with my girlfriend." He said, accenting the word girlfriend with his dynamics and an exaggerated accent.

"Which cheerleader are you dating?" she sweetly, even having the nerve to bat her eyes and step a little closer.

Now he started feeling just a little claustrophobic. What did he do to deserve this? He ran through the lists of possible reason . He got decent grades, chores done usually on time, obeyed his parents..."Who said my girlfriend was a cheerleader? See you around." _If she doesn't leave now, I swear, I'll punch her in the nose. Or Liz will._

"Are you sure? Because, it's kinda expected for all the football boys to go with the cheerleader girls. It's actually kind of an unwritten rule. And since I'm one of the only cheerleaders who was planning on going in a group, I thought I could..."

"Eyegore!" Lizzie's voice floated above the crowd as she ran through the crowds of students and flung herself into Don's waiting arms.

"Froaderick!" he responded enthusiastically, grinning and picking her up off the ground. Their inside joke was interrupted by an unladylike snort of surprise and a loud 'huh?' from the offending softball player.

"Young Frankenstein." Lizzie tried to explain, but which drew a blank stare from the girl. "It's a movie." _If she only had a brain..."_You know, with Gene Wil-"

"Oh, really." the player- Brittany, or Courtney, or something like that- said condescendingly and turned to look at Don, who already had begun talking-to Lizzie, not her.

"Hey. What's up? You ready to go now?" He set her down gently on the floor, but kept his fingers tangled in hers. She nodded and started walking with him towards the exit. He remembered the girl, whatever her name was, and called back over his shoulder "See you around." _Yeah, right. _They walked side by side out the front doors of their school and into the bright sunlight.

"What was that all about." Lizzie asked quietly, but with a mischievous grin on her face.

"Stupid chick was hittin' on me." Don said with a smirk. Yup, he wasn't getting away with this one.

"Oh, yeah? What did you say?" she said with a tone of voice that showed that she was trying her hardest to keep the laughter in.

"Said I was already taken." They wove in and out of the crowd like true city kids, quick and not bothering if they happened to bump into anyone on the way.

"I like that answer." she whispered, as though not wanting anyone around them to hear.

"Me too." He wanted the whole world to know.

"So where're going?" she stated more than asked, in the jovial that showed she didn't really care, but just wanted to talk. _It's not like we're gonna go anywhere interesting on a Thursday night._

"Peace, ye fat guts." He saw right through her, and he was going to prove her wrong.

"How can you quote Shakespeare at me, and almost fail English Lit last year?" she said quickly changing from conversation mode to fighting mode. _"Okay, fighting/flirting mode."_ she admitted to herself.

"I only memorize useful quotations." he said with a smirk she could hear in his voice.

"Insulting ones, you mean." She would bet a million dollars that if she looked over now, she could see a smirk on his face the size of Texas.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"I gotta good one for your little friend back there." She was good at this game, and she wanted him to know it.

"Oh yeah, what?" He knew she was loving this. He loved it too.

"Her beauty and her brain go not together." she said with an exaggerated Yonkers accent, usually not so prominent in her everyday speech.

"Harsh. Thou crusty beef-witted giglet!" he exclaimed, saying the next best insult that popped into his head.

"Peace, ye fat guts. Do you even know what a giglet is?"

"Do you?"

"No, but that's beside the point."

"How so, Miss Gellar?"

"Don't call me crusty."

"I do believe I just won our argument, Cadet."

"Was immer..."

"See. Whenever you know you're gonna lose an argument you switch to German. I win! I win!" he shouted jubilantly.

"Oh really, Mr. Flack." She stopped walking and pulled him beside her a few feet into a small alley next to the street. She ran her fingers around his neck and pulled herself up closer to him. He placed his hands on her hips and kissed her- a long, hard, real kiss. She broke it off but kept her face to the side of his and tip-toed her fingers up his arms. She was driving him crazy. "Alas, poor ape, how thou sweat'st." she whispered into his ear, then pulled back and started to walk away.

He grabbed her left arm and spun her around, gently but surely, backed her up against the wall and kissed her again. This time he was driving her crazy. He broke it off before she was ready to, and whispered "Go rot." in her right ear.

"Truce?"

"Okay." They began walking back towards the apartment building a little more slowly than before.

"So what are we gonna do today?" she asked again, wanting an actual answer this time, and not an 'argument'.

"Your pickup back from the shop yet?" he countered, picturing her beat up red Ford four by four whose engine breaking system decided to quit working just over a month ago.

"Yeah, just got it back last week. Where were you thinkin'?"

"How 'bout one last time in Jersey?" He opened the door for her to go into their apartment building, and once inside she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek this time, because there were people around. "I'm guessin' that's a yes."

"Heck yeah, it is. I'll have to ask my parents first, but they'll probably say yes if we get back before midnight."

"Should we ask Jan and Chip?"

"No!" He laughed at her vehement objection and she, flustered, tried to explain herself. "I mean, I think they'll be busy. Alright, alright, I don't want them coming. We see them enough as it is, I just don't need to have my baby sister and her goofy boyfriend around at all times. "

"And I don't need to have my goofy best friend- besides you, of course- and his little girlfriend around at all times either.

"Hey, but we should have one last bash on the roof before you go. After the prom?" she said, speaking of the once-frequent themed parties the quartet threw for each other on the roof of their building. They started organizing them in eighth grade, but had grown too busy during the high school years to throw more than one a semester.

"Sure. Hey, we can ask them now." Don said, pointing out the couple sitting outside the stairwell on their floor. "Yo, Chip. We were thinkin' 'bout throwing another bash tomorrow after the prom. You up for it? It's your turn to choose the theme."

"We were just thinking the same thing, and we decided on orange."

"The color of the food?"

"Both. Liz need to bring candy corn and you have to bring orange Fanta. We're bringing the surprise. Oh, we're gonna meet there at midnight."

"That's okay with us." Liz said, not bothering to ask Don if it was okay with him too. She already knew the answer was yes. "We're going to Jersey. See you tomorrow."

They continued on to their respective apartments, then to the garage below the building, then to the beach in New Jersey where they spent the day walking on the beach and talking about anything but the future.

The day and part of the prom night flew by quickly with dancing and laughing all around. Both Don and Lizzie knew they should be having the talk about the future, but neither of them wanted to bring it up. So they didn't. And all the sudden it was 11:45 and they had to leave the hotel the party was being hosted in and hurry home.

Just as they ran out of their apartments after changing into jeans and school-spirited sweatshirts, they heard the grandfather clock in Mrs. O'Leary's apartment down the hall strike midnight. They ran up the steps and burst outside with a bundle of energy and happiness. They looked out over the beautiful city and soon their arms were around each other and they kissed briefly, then broke off to get oxygen and get their emotions under control.

She knew now was the time to speak what was on her mind. "Don, I lo--" She was cut off by a loud screech of car breaks, and a huge crash.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it or make any money off it._

_A/N: Glad you guys like it so far... and the little cliffhanger at the end. I know, I'm evil. I was almost not going to put it in, then I was like, what the heck, so I (obviously) did. Sorry about all the spelling mistakes in chapter three, I really wanted to post it before CSI:NY on Wednesday, so I couldn't edit it like I normally do. I'll try to do better this time. Oh, thanks to you guys who reviewed. You totally made what was going to be a crappy Thursday into an awesome one. I'm giving you a cheesy smile right now and I know you can't see it, but it's the thought that counts, right? This chapter is going to be a little bit shorter than the others because otherwise it would have to be really really long and it's already 1 in the morning, so I didn't feel like writing more. I honestly don't know how it turned out… see what you think:

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_

Janet was killed instantly, and Chip slipped into a coma and died three days after his blue Mustang was totaled by a drunk driver. Lizzie never got to finish her sentence, the rest of that night was too full. The initial shock that Janet, her baby sister, was dead, and the knowledge that Chip was in a coma and still suffering.

Seeing her parents and all of Janet's closest friends cry made her strangely averse to crying. What good does crying do? There were other ways to overcome grief. For the hour, sitting curled up on Don's lap in the hospital waiting for news about Chip made her feel better. A few hours later, the sight and touch of her parents held her over until she could be tangled in Don's arms again. That's when the numbness started. And continued through the last hospital visit with Don to see their good friend motionless, breathing only with the help of a machine, when they knew that small white machine might as well be off because there was no way Chip was going to survive.

The numbness went away as she stayed with Don all Sunday night when he heard Chip had finally died, and grew more distant with every touch and kiss. She was even able to crack a few jokes on her graduation day with Don and his parents at the ceremony. Her parents did not attend.

Now here Lizzie was, sitting in the familiar church sanctuary where she had gone almost every Sunday in her life, when she came to the conclusion that Janet was dead, and she definitely wasn't coming back. Ever. She tuned out the pastor talking on and on about Janet and Chip when she realized that the pastor didn't even know who they really were. If crying doesn't do anything, why should blaming yourself help? Once she had reached this decision, she realized that she needed to get out of there - fast.

Frantically after making eye-contact with Don from across the room, she made her way to the hallway outside the sanctuary and put the most sentences together in once conversation since Saturday.

"Hey, how're ya doing." she asked in a concerned tone as she reached her hand up to brush a runaway strand of hair out of Don's eyes.

He grabbed it before she could reach his skin and grabbed her arm and pushed her against the wall. "What is wrong with you? I just don't get it. He was my best friend, but she was your _sister_. Why can't you show me how you feel?"

"You wouldn't understand." She shrank against the wall, trying to get as far away from the physical form of her conscience as possible.

"You know I would. Right now I just don't know what you want. You want me to be there for you, fine, whatever. You want me to stay away from you for a while, I'll understand that. You want me to talk to you, I want to talk to you just as badly. But I can't understand why you're out in the ozone layer like that."

"They would have hated this, you know that? They would have laughed so hard at that stupid pastor making stuff up about them. And we'd be laughing with them. You know what really ticks me off? I'm not mad at that drunk driver, I'm not mad at myself for suggesting the last bash. I'm mad at my parents right now, and I can't talk to them about it. If I feel like laughing, if I feel like not crying, I'm going to. I don't care how bad it looks, I'm gonna do it. They would have done the same thing and you know it."

"We need to talk. And you need to deal with your parents, you're smart enough to know that." He tightened his grip on her just a little, hoping to cause some emotions or reactions. Anything would be better than nothing.

"Forgive me for being a little irrational on the day of my sister's funeral, and would you let go of me!" She started to shout something else, but was interrupted by a hissed 'no' and his tongue inside her mouth. She immediately reacted, but then pulled away when she remembered where she was.

_Real smooth, Flack. Janet and Chip's funeral and you wanna make out with your girlfriend. They would have laughed so hard at us..._ He started to apologize, but stopped when she hugged him and reassured him that it was okay. "Let's go somewhere." he said when he realized they still needed to have a long talk and that they couldn't do it here because the service was almost over.

"I'll need to tell my parents where we're going." she whispered in his ear, suddenly too tired to talk at a normal dynamic.

"They won't notice." he whispered back, putting into words what he'd been noticing for the past two days. Her parents were still in shock, and they hadn't said more than a few sentences to Lizzie since the accident last week. He wondered if Lizzie notice it too.

"I'm sure some of my other relatives will." she muttered with an annoyed smirk, referring to the hordes of people that she had hardly seen all her life that suddenly decided that Janet was their favorite niece. She needed a good joke, or anything funny, fast. "Gotta quote for annoying relatives?"

"Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Willis?"

"I said a relatives quote, not a lame 70's sitcom. And don't call me Willis. I thought you had better taste in television than that, Flack." she said in a lighter tone, watching as he cringed at her use of his last name.

"You know me, anything to get a laugh." He let this one slide. One more time, and, he couldn't be responsible for what he did to her.

"Yeah. Boston?" she suggested, not knowing how far or how long they needed to talk.

"Why not. Pickup?" he asked, knowing she understood what he meant.

"Full. Money?" Lizzie said, not wanting to bother her parents about something like that.

"I can get some." It's not like his parents were loaded, but he could always ask for an advance on the money he would get from his part-time job. Guilt gnawed at the back of his mind. Would Janet and Chip want them to be regular mourners at a funeral? Nothing Liz ever did was regular, why should she start now?

"We have to leave later in the afternoon, though. I have to say goodbye to all my relatives."

"And my parents won't want me to be out for too long. We can leave whenever you want." A few chords to a familiar funeral hymn struck up on the organ, and the two teenagers broke apart in surprise at the loud noise. "Guess we have to go in now." Don said reluctantly, and they both turned to go inside.

Just before they reached the big doors leading to the back of the sanctuary, Lizzie hesitated, then pulled Don back a few feet, wrapped his arms around herself, and leaned herself against his chest. "Just a few more seconds, okay?" she said with a noticeable catch in her voice.

"Yeah." he said simply, feeling the same catch in his voice, both of their slightly happier moods destroyed by the mournful hymn.

* * *

At two o'clock in the afternoon, Lizzie finally detached herself from her relatives, threw some things in the back of the pickup, and climbed in beside Don. She was too upset to drive. 


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it or make any money off it._

_A/N: Chapter Six starts the present day stuff... yay! This one is just wrapping up. I have no clue how it turned out... sorry if you hate the characters in this chapter, but they're supposed to be mean! Sorry for the lack of updates. I just didn't feel like writing. And I'm sick. So there. Be happy the Bears are winning (so far crosses fingers) or I wouldn't have updated at all... I was listening to the WEIRDEST music ever (The Beatles, Justin Timberlake, my fave: Bohemian Rhapsody. I know, it's a good song, but it is really weird when you listen to the lyrics. Especially the opera part. I'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me...:)

* * *

_

Three minutes after Don started driving, he noticed that Lizzie was acting weird. He had turned on the radio as soon as they left, and she wasn't singing along like usual, regardless of whether she knew the words or not. If she wasn't singing, she would almost certainly be tapping out the beat on the dashboard with her omnipresent drumsticks, or bobbing her head along with the bass. Just sitting there, blank expression on her face, looking straight ahead. Not looking out the window, talking, laughing, or telling her latest joke.

He realized he had been daydreaming, and forced himself to focus on driving. The last thing they needed now was a car accident. He heard her shift uncomfortably in her seat, and he decided to do something about it._ What does she need? Shouldn't mention anything about graduation, the prom, drunk drivers, sisters, best friends... The list went on and on. You're such an idiot. Tell her how you really feel. Just say 'I love you'. Three simple words, right? How is this so hard? I mean, it's true. Right? He was starting to have second thoughts about this. Did he love her? Did she love him? What on earth was she about to say on that roof?_

After several seconds of intense internal debating, he decided to play it safe. "So, why didn't you play any sports in school? I mean, I've seen you play basketball, and you're better than me." _Casual question, nice complement. Good work._

Lizzie didn't buy it. "What's with the lame question. Come on, I've known you longer than five minutes." she snapped impatiently. _"Why did you do that?"_ she asked herself once she realized what she'd done._ "I'm such an idiot. Why did I do that? I'd better..."_

He beat her to it. "What the heck is your problem. You've been acting like a wet mop the whole ride."

"I haven't done anything the whole ride. It's only been three minutes, gosh." She sunk down lower in her seat and watched an ant walk around on the carpet of his car--her car. _"Don's just driving,"_ she reminded herself. _"I'm still in control of this car." _She turned on her "fight/teasing with Don" autopilot and glared at the intruder ant.

"Since when have you ever seen a wet mop do anything? You prove my point." He tried to make his voice reflect his words: light, playful. They came out harsh and condescending.

"Would you shut up? At least I'm not trying to ask stupid filler questions." she said, suddenly forced out of the autopilot and into defense-mode because of his unusual harshness. This wasn't going to be a fight/teasing time. This was the real thing.

"I really want to know. Why don't you do anything but your karate?" He was lying through his teeth about caring. He didn't care at all why she spent her time bangin' on drums instead of doing at school something she was good at.

"It's not karate, it's a form of martial arts called... Oh, what would you know about it." She verbally stabbed him, not caring about the consequences. Before, the quartet had lived for the future and had gotten burned for it. Lizzie only lived for the present now.

"Why wouldn't I know anything about it?"

"Don't give me that look, everyone knows I'm smarter than you." The tires screeched as Don pulled into a small alley. She didn't know it was coming, and didn't brace herself for the bounce of the tires hitting the curb like he did. Her head snapped against the window on the passenger side, causing her to wince in pain and rub her temple as he looked on. He didn't care. "What are you doing?" she asked angrily, when she realized he was not going to be concerned about her head. Before he would have freaked out. Now...

"Shut up or hit the pavement." he said in a surprisingly calm and collected tone.

"It's my car, loser." she automatically responded, frantically trying to process this new side of Don. An alley in Yonkers, even at two in the afternoon, wasn't the safest place to be. He knew it.

"I've got the keys, sweetheart." he said, his words again contrasting with his tone of voice, and this time, his expression.

"You're over eighteen, you could get put in jail for grand theft auto or whatever they call it." Lizzie tried to lighten the mood and make him act normal. Gentle, sweet, goofy, funny... all that was forgotten when she looked into his face and saw his new expression of hatred, anger, and spite.

"I got connections with the police. So, you walkin' or shuttin'?" Don watched Liz --_your girlfriend, you idiot_-- squirm in her seat and mumble something facing the window. Why was he doing this? It was too late to stop..."I didn't hear that."

"I said I want Jello." she yelled, causing him to jump slightly, put his hand on the stick shift, and peal out of the alley and down the street at about twice the speed limit.

"Why couldn't I get a girl with normal cravings." he snarled angrily as he switched on the radio and flipped the knob around, trying to get better reception out of the twenty year old radio. He finally got their favorite station -the oldies station- to come in clear after he slowed down a bit and attempted to calm down.

"Wouldn't It Be Nice" -their favorite song- was playing. Don and Liz reached for the radio at the same time, not wanting to ruin the song with their memories of this stupid day. His hand was on the knob just before hers, and she 'accidentally' scratched him out of spite, enjoying the flicker of pain that flashed through his eyes. "Why don't you get out of my car?" she said angrily, ignoring his comment about her cravings. She thought he liked her strange cravings. Lizzie succeeded in blocking out the funny memories of cornflakes at midnight, marshmallows at nine in the morning, and cheeseburgers at five a.m.

"Why don't you answer my question? Were you trying to prove the whole _Grease_ line thing?" he asked once he'd gotten over the fact that she had scratched him like a five year old kid. He thought-knew-he should shut up and try to make things right before they destroyed each other, but his frustration and pain kept it going longer than it should have.

"What _Grease_ line? I've seen that movie twenty million times and there was never anything about stupid questions." Lizzie's favorite thing about her friendship with Don had been playing the 'quoting game'- they had done it so much Chip and Janet started to do it. And now they were ruining that, too.

"If you can't be in athletics, at least be an athletic supporter." Don said sarcastically, quoting the patient athletic director in one of their favorite movies. _One of my favorite movies, and one of her favorite movies. I have to stop grouping us together... we obviously won't be together for longer than the ride home if we keep this assault up._

"I wanted to be in the drum line, okay. And I was really good, too, not that your nonexistent musical ears could tell. I just didn't want to play the freakin' sports and be the freakin' hero like Mr. Football here." she said, telling the truth about what she thought about him being so good at football. She was so proud of him, and so jealous at the same time.

"Oh, come on, I wasn't that big of a deal." he said as he maneuvered the pickup through traffic and subconsciously took the route home that went near the high school.

"Yeah, right. Look at that." she pointed to the big sign proclaiming 'Eisenhower High School, Home of The Falcons' and the banner on the side of the building that said in bright gold lettering 'Home of 1995 All-State Quarterback Don Flack, Jr!' "It doesn't get any more hero-ish than that." she said bitterly.

"Like hero-ish isn't a word. But how could I tell that, since you're so much smarter than me? You're really insecure, you know that? The whole reason that you're going into the army is because you're insecure. You can't control your surroundings at a normal job or college. So you have to go to a freakin' military school to have everything be perfect. You think you're so smart, you might have street smarts and book smarts and athletic smarts, but you will never be normal and have people smarts." He used his chance to finally rant on about what he had noticed about Lizzie since Janet and Chip died.

"I don't..." she tried to say angrily, but it came out in a hurt whisper because she knew he was right.

"Yes, you do. You will always be the little pariah in the background, thinking a million things and never acting on them. People never know what you want, if you never tell us."

"I tell you **everything**, don't you ever say I keep things away from you." she, again, tried to say angrily. It just wasn't coming out that way.

"How do you feel about me?" He took a chance, and regretted it immediately afterwards when he looked into her face and saw revulsion in her brown eyes. He pulled into the parking lot below the apartment building, into her space, and cut the engine, afraid of what she was going to say.

"Give me the keys." she said slowly and held out her hand. It was trembling.

He mentally kicked himself for being such a jerk, an idiot... he could go on and on. He slowly raised his hand and ran it through her dark red hair, fully expecting her to punch him in the nose, but she didn't. His forefingers ended up on the base of her jawline as he pulled her closer for a goodbye kiss which she didn't resist. She let her right hand come up and rest on his cheek, then slid into his hair, just like before. They broke apart when it felt right, and he pulled her into his arms for a quick hug before pulling the keys out of the ignition and placing them in her hand.

"This is it?" she said blankly as they walked through the cold passageway and into the equally cold stairwell, together for the last time.

"It has to be." he said with the same confused feeling.

* * *

They saw each other five times in the following ten years, but were able to email each other about once week. Lizzie came to visit Don when his two required years were up and he was eligible to enter the Academy to follow his dream. They went out for pancakes at three a.m. and talked the whole night through, mentioning the last fight with casual 'sorry's, and a brief hug at the end.

Don came to visit Lizzie-or First Class Cadet Gellar, as she was more commonly known as- at her West Point graduation ceremony, and laughed with her for hours on how cool the uniforms were, and how dorky the hats looked. She moved all her extra boxes into his small apartment in the city before going on assignment in an 'undisclosed' location. Her parents moved back to Texas, and there was no way she was letting all her stuff go there too... especially not her prized drum set. They had a casual goodbye at the airport, and he was moody for a week, according to all his friends in the police force. They didn't even know she existed.

She visited him three times during her six years on assignment on her way to visit her parents in Fort Worth. Each time she crashed at his apartment and spent most of the time in the shower, curled up in his bed waiting for him to come home, and tangled up on the couch watching and quoting their favorite movies.


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I own... nothing. Surprise, surprise. _

_A/N: Just for the record, I really don't like Lindsay. So I've written her to be how I perceive her character on the show. I'm sorry if you do not like this. If you disagree with my opinion of Lindsay, just think of her as an OC._

_Wow. Long time no update. I'm going with the lack of direction and muse, and school excuses. __This is really really really short. I haven't written anything in a while, so here goes nothing... Reviews are really helpful for me to see what you do/do not like. And tell me if Lizzie's gettin' ta be a Mary Sue._

_-This is in the present (December 2006) now.--_

* * *

It's amazing how you start to hate your phone when it's always ringing. No, it didn't just ring; it chirped. It chirped at just the wrong times, too. Thirty seconds after you've hopped in the shower after pulling a triple. In the middle of an important interrogation after you've just had some decent communication with the suspect, your mother calls about some random and unimportant tidbit of neighborhood gossip. 

Just now, it decided to ring when Flack was standing in front of his locker, trying to remember his combo among twenty million other things. The rebel inside told him to just ignore it, the person would leave a message or something; but the detective inside won and his left hand reached dutifully for the phone.

He could almost hear the voice of a sheriff in some cheesy western. _Any last words before yer hung, cowboy?_ The phone was in front of him now, but flipped over so he couldn't see the caller I.D. One, two, flip. Expecting to see STELLA or MAC beaming up at him, but instead seeing a row of random numbers was a pleasant surprise. The wheels in his head turned and clicked into place like the inner workings of the idiotic combination lock in front of him should be doing. _If I don't have their number, then they are not calling about work, family, friends, or some guy in some prison somewhere. _

With any luck, it would be the cable guy. Or maybe one of the guys with an extra Rangers ticket. "Hello?" Flack used the brisk detective voice in case it was Mac calling about a case from a land line, trying to ruin his well-earned day off.

"I could really go for some Cheez-Its right now." He could hear people in the background. Speaking English. New Yorkers, definitely. Ten to one the latest assignment location wasn't New York.

"You've got an unhealthy obsession with junk food for someone whose in the military."

"Was in the military."

"Where are you? Airport?"

"The lobby. NYPD Homicide." The phone clicked shut, the rebellious locker combination left in the dust, and the heavy metal door that connected the hallway with the locker room had never been opened that fast.

* * *

Lindsay Monroe reminded herself of the benefits for working as a CSI. The sense of accomplishment for putting the bad guys behind bars. Decent pay, good job security. But when she was made to be the resident office courier, the only thing that motivated her was the destination. In this case, the criminal records pulled from the DNA match on AFIS on her latest case were going into the hands of the only person she didn't mind being courier to - Detective Flack. With any luck, he would be on his way out grab a bite to eat. With a little more luck, he would be in the mood to share it with someone else. 

She grabbed the nearest lab rat and got the answer she was looking for out of him. Flack was seen running out the locker room in the direction of the elevators to the lobby, approximately twenty seconds ago. Lab coat went off, smile went on, and elevator went down.

* * *

They were talking so fast, neither of them could understand themselves, let alone each other. It was just like normal, so they tolerated it and were annoyed when Lindsay came up out of nowhere. 

Don came up with a hissed, "Not now, Monroe" when he saw the case folder in her hand and the detective look on her face. She persisted and for several seconds there were three people jabbering away at once. Lindsay was talking about the development in the case, Don about his day off, and Lizzie about food until she placed her thumb and forefinger in the corners of her mouth and whistled authoritatively.

Lindsay didn't know what to make of her. She was obviously Flack's friend, but why on earth had Lindsay never seen her before? Not at the hospital, where half the force came out to visit when he was in a coma and talk to him when he was recovering. She moved her jacket to the side of her hip so the shield was visible. "Detective Lindsay Monroe. NYPD Crime Lab." It was cool and hostile at the same time.

"Elizabeth Gellar. Homo Sapien." Flack suppressed a grin and began walking Lindsay back toward the elevator with a hand on her back, prodding her along while Liz stayed back and watched. The knuckle of his left index finger collided impatiently with the glowing arrow pointing up. The door opened within seconds and Lindsay half walked, half scooted in with the help of his right arm. He turned around without another word and didn't catch the glower over his shoulder directed at the intruder.

* * *

The drive to Don's apartment was long, and they both had millions of little things to share, but those things could wait. 

He said what they were both thinking. "So. Two years is pretty long, huh?"

"Yup." _How am I supposed to answer that? It might as well have been two billion, it lasted forever. _

"So you're staying."

"Yeah." It was weird. Not excited. Not depressed. Just 'Yeah'. No emotions. Very military.

"Texas?"

"Gag me." Flack couldn't decide whether she was the same or different. Same appetite, same expressions. No smile. There was a brief flicker when she was scooped into his arms, but back to the same stoic face.

_Friday night. Game nights. "Being the best quarterback a high school ever had has its pressures," thought Don as he threw up the remains of his lunch into a trash can in the back hallway of good ol' Eisenhower. He looked around at the decorations chosen by the pep club and groaned. Yellow and blue, falcons, blue and yellow, falcons. Somewhere outside the marching band played the school fight song, then fell silent. A lone snare started with four sets of triplets. Time to go. He ran down the hallway, and joined the team filing out onto the field. He didn't look for the cheerleaders, his parents. He looked for the drum line. Standing at the front of the line, a mess of red hair fell over the sunglasses hiding her eyes. Standing up straight, her face was immovable, impassable. _

She was wearing her drum line face, and Don realized she had been for the past ten years.


End file.
